


Error: 69

by Arnediad



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: After Seph has a girly freakout, Character Study, Just a giant study on how life is strange, Kind of a weird fic, M/M, Not really humor either however, Opposing Sexual Dynamics, Possibly some weird intimacy, Rated E for Sexual Innuendo and Implications, Separate from any other stories or pieces, Sephiroth thinking too hard, Sex is strange, Sort of fluffy and crack at the end, also swearing, via Seph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 17:23:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22467130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arnediad/pseuds/Arnediad
Summary: ‘This relationship started unexpectedly, or encountered an unanticipated error. Deeper reciprocation cannot proceed. To ameliorate this problem, terminate the relationship, or restart the installation.’Sephiroth realizes that Genesis doesn’t enjoy sex as much as he thought, and that he himself hasn’t been entirely honest when it comes to what he needs. The reasoning the redhead offers forth upon questioning is less than satisfactory, and the General begins to fear that perhaps things are more one-sided than he initially believed.
Relationships: Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Error: 69

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting work. Will take time.

Shinra forbade liaisons with other Soldiers.

Laying in a messy bed with his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, sweat pooling at the base of his spine, and a flagging erection between his legs, Sephiroth acknowledged that perhaps nothing about this had been thought out at all. The ceiling was blurry, but that happened occasionally...when he lost control, when he didn’t think everything through...when he was too much of what he wanted to be and less of what he tried to be. His bones ached, but it was a _good_ ache; something liquid and lax and languorous. That thick, heavy feeling that he only otherwise acquired via sixteen glasses of the aptly coined ‘haste’ and a bottle of 192 proof whiskey. Something warm that coiled in his belly for hours...loosening his fingertips...shivering downwards like slipping into a hot bath and remaining so for an extended amount of time. Someone else might have called it _gratuity_ , but it was more than that to him...so much more than base instincts and carnal greed.

The body next to him was silent.

As silent as it could be, in any case, when that pale chest rose and fell with short, unsteady, and slightly panicked breaths. He felt a twinge of irritation, followed swiftly by a larger feeling of _guilt_...but he didn’t _want_ to feel guilt because, as far as things went...this was _normal._ Shifting somewhat, rotating until he was on his side, Sephiroth attempted to pull Genesis closer to him...to nuzzle up against his backside until they were molded together...much like they had been no more than ten minutes before. Despair creeped into his psyche; became something dark and shivering and crawling when the redhead jerked away, when he sat up abruptly and looked at something-anything-other than him. His posture was defensive, and he couldn’t pretend to understand it, but he _wanted_ to.

They were sleeping together.

_’Sleeping’_ , of course, was a relative term...and didn’t hold the affectionate connotations that Sephiroth might normally have associated with lovemaking. He was, of course, aware that the parameters of lovemaking were different depending on the individual, but that didn’t change his perspective regarding it. And perhaps that was his fault...for pretending like he wasn’t going to expect more. Or perhaps for _assuming_ that he wouldn’t expect more. He should have waited, at _least_ until he’d had sex with someone else before he started something with some _one_ as mercurial as Genesis Rhapsodos. Going into a relationship with the redhead as a virgin was in of itself a maiden concept. But he had wanted...and he had wanted enough that he told himself that whatever the older man desired when it came to the bedroom...he could offer it. So when the redhead led him, smiling, into the makeshift barracks during a Grasslands encampment and pushed him onto a cot with dark intent in his sapphire eyes...he went willingly.

The older man climbed over him and it was a fumbling, hasty affair in which he had no idea what he was doing, but his scarlet-haired second-in-command seemed okay with that. Really, Genesis seemed perfectly content to give Sephiroth exactly what he thought he wanted-which was apparently a mind-shattering orgasm-before disappearing back to check on the sentries. Lying in a dark, somewhat drafty tent and feeling like he’d just run the most glorious marathon of his life, it occurred to the General that his bedpartner hadn’t orgasmed once. This was at odds with what he knew about the redhead, because all accounts given by those involved with him in such a manner were indicative of the fact that he was a consummate lover. Shivering with the aftershocks, Sephiroth was then forced to acknowledge that the circumstances surrounding their encounter didn’t make such rumors any less true; it just made them different than he assumed.

HQ was the stage for their next encounter.

Specifically, the debriefing room. No more than five minutes after Lazard walked out, Genesis had managed to lock the door, turn on the one-way glass, slap a bottle of lube into Sephiroth’s palm and pull down his fatigues whilst leaning across the cold wooden surface of the conference table. When the silver-haired First stood there imitating what was-he imagined-something very close to a fish, the older man snapped whether he was going to get on with it...and so he did. He did, and they had a square two hours of _’good solid fucking’_ as the redhead would put it, before he wasn’t able to hold out anymore and came so hard that spots exploded in front of his eyes. Again, Genesis didn’t orgasm, and again, it didn’t particularly seem to bother him. It wasn’t about what Genesis desired, as it turned out.

It was about what he didn’t.

He didn’t seem to want to define any aspect of their relationship save for attraction and was vehemently opposed when Sephiroth attempted to ask him on a date. This, Sephiroth was fine with. They spent plenty of time together without needing to define what they were...and the more specific the parameters became, the more danger they were in when it came to being separated by Administration. Regardless, Genesis sought him out in order to spend time with him, and vice versa; there was no need to make it more complicated than it already was. He was, initially, reluctant in regards to developing a sexual rapport with someone who had-up until very recently-hated him. He was beginning to suspect that the redhead’s ‘hate’, however had more to do with attraction than it had to do with genuine dislike.

Which was, ultimately, what made their issues with sex so confounding and frustrating.

Genesis did not like to be on the receiving end when it came to intercourse. That was not saying that he wasn’t the one being penetrated-because usually he was-but no matter what position they were in, it was clear that the older man was in control. And _control_ in Genesis’ case was leaving Sephiroth a panting, wrung out mess while he went on with his day to day activities without suffering even the slightest bit of testicular discomfort. Sometimes, the younger man was absolutely astounded that his companion never experienced even a fractional iota of physical pain when it came to-quite literally- _stopping_ sex just so that he wouldn’t have to orgasm. He assumed that his Commander had a fantastic relationship with his sword arm. At first, he didn’t mind it, because he was so blown away by the new experience of sexual congress he truly couldn’t think about anything else.

Reciprocation was an entirely different story.

The first time Sephiroth tried to go down on Genesis the redhead nearly broke his nose trying to backpedal. As it was, the younger man remained kneeling on the floor clutching his ethmoid even as he stupidly wondered if he was simply _that bad_ at seducing the older man. Likewise, he didn’t want to be touched too much or fondled too much...didn’t like it if Sephiroth kissed him long and deep and slow when they were having sex...didn’t like when he thumbed his nipples or tried to open him up with his tongue. He didn’t particularly seem to like below-the-waist foreplay either, unless it was through several layers of clothing.

At first he thought it might be trauma.

Physical trauma, of course, and Sephiroth had no idea how to breach the subject without coming off as someone floundering in a field that was completely unfamiliar to him. It wasn’t, however, _utterly_ unfamiliar, thanks to Hojo...and so he settled with telling the older man a story of when the mad scientist decided to strap him to a gurney and ‘study’ his assets for four hours when he was twelve. The rage in those sapphire-blue eyes was so bright by the time he’d finished that he was surprised Genesis didn’t set HQ ablaze with the all-encompassing fury in his sclera. It took every ounce of the General’s tactical diplomacy to talk the redhead down from firaga’ing through his living room floor to the Science Division so he could assassinate one of Shinra’s largest, craziest, and most _valuable_ assets. There was rage...but there wasn’t kinship or a sense of shared pain. The older man’s anguish was real, but it was anguish for him...and not because he could somehow correlate his trauma with trauma he might be hiding.

He began to suspect that Genesis wasn’t attracted to him whatsoever.

_This_ did make him angry, because if that was the case, the scarlet-haired Soldier was leading him on, even if he couldn’t guess at his means to an end. It didn’t make sense, however, when he thought about how they interacted, when he thought about the level of respect and careful reverence that seemed to suffuse every other aspect of their relationship. Genesis was careful with him in ways that he was not careful with others; he took the time to talk with him, to share his thoughts with him, and never once did Sephiroth take that for granted. At the same time, he was forced to acknowledge that perhaps the older man was emulating empathy for the sake of something else. When his feelings regarding it had stewed long enough that he felt the need to mention it-during a sparring session, no less-Genesis lost his head in a manner that was quite unlike him. He didn’t shout, he didn’t swear, and he didn’t try to beat the younger man into a pulp despite the fact that he’d likely not have succeeded. Instead, he’d lowered Rapier and looked at Sephiroth like he’d grown sixteen terrifying heads and then muttered that he was late for a meeting-despite it being the weekend-and then disappeared into the locker rooms.

They talked later.

It was, to say the least, enlightening...even if it didn’t particularly make him feel better. Sitting in a cloistered lounge off of Deck 5, the redhead explained that most of the enjoyment he got from sex was sequestered squarely to what he could draw from his partner, and that his need for reciprocation was next to nil. He also expressed a distinct dislike for sex in general, and when Sephiroth looked at him like he was lying he snorted and shook his head at his coffee mug.

_”I’ve got a reputation for being a casanova because that’s how all of my partners wanted to see me”_ he’d said dryly.

_”So why sleep with so many people in the first place?”_ Sephiroth had demanded, leaning against the decking and feeling like he was missing something vital.

_”Because it's what they wanted”_ was the muttered reply. _”And I’m not good at saying no. But I don’t need that...release, not really. Don’t see what the fuss is about, if I’m going to be completely honest.”_ He was fixed with a piercing cerulean gaze. _”If this is going to cause problems, you ought to let me know now.”_

He told himself, and his partner, that it wasn’t.

And it wasn’t...why should it be? Sephiroth got to experience fantastic orgasms with a partner whose aesthetic made him slightly dizzy, and whose brilliance and dedication to his work made him even more dizzy. Complaining about his position, expecting more, expecting the older man to give way because he wanted something else was ludicrous. Sephiroth had been taught, from a very young age, not to ask for more than he was given. Selfishness, particularly as a Soldier, was frowned upon...it was dishonorable. Moreover, he _cared_ about Genesis, deeply. Part of that caring came with an inherent, knee-jerk desire to give him what he wanted without expecting anything else in return. Shinra’s Finest had been taught to serve for a long, _long_ time. If serving meant that he gave himself to whatever pleasures his redheaded partner had to offer, he didn’t particularly see that as getting the short end of the stick...or so he told himself.

That didn’t, of course, change the fact that Sephiroth was Sephiroth.

And being Sephiroth meant that he led with some large and continuously present pretense of total and absolute control. Service...in his case, was giving as good as he got, and better if he could manage it. The desire to outperform in order to survive was ingrained in his psyche, and while the initial wonders of sex might have put that to the wayside for a bit, it quickly became more apparent that he _needed_ some form of allowance when it came to physical touch in order to feel like he wasn’t indulging himself to the point of insanity. There was also the element of wanting to make Genesis feel as good as Genesis made him feel. The realization of this was disheartening, because it meant that no matter how much he told himself that the redhead didn’t _need_ him that way, he _wanted_ him to need him that way.

There was little talk of it after that.

Mostly because they both seemed to realize that they were at a critical impasse that, if acknowledged, might spell the end of their relationship. If Sephiroth slipped up and accidently got too clingy under the covers, Genesis shied away from him for a few hours and then came back as if nothing was wrong. But it was wrong. Not just on an uneasy level, but on a level regarding communication and individuality. And so there were nights like this...where the void yawned between them...ever closer and ever darker...and where Sephiroth unhappily but stoically acknowledged that this could only last so much longer. Because you could not-as far as he was aware-have two individuals in a relationship whose sexual dynamic was so wildly different.

Genesis was still silent.

“I’m sorry” Sephiroth said to the ceiling after several minutes went by. “I just…”

“You just can’t control it” was the flat reply, said to the same overhead structure. “I get it.”

His room was generally dull.

Sephiroth had a large and very comfortable bed with black and white upholstery, but that was about as far as his creativity went when it came to decor. His walls were grey and bereft of everything safe for a rack upon which Masamune was glittering ominously. He kept his trophies piled in a closet it the hallway; he just didn’t see the point in displaying them. Now, of course, his floor was scattered with their intermingled garments, but he usually had no trouble keeping everything clean because he ultimately owned very little.

Gritting his teeth against the _’no, **you** don’t get it’_ that rose behind them, the younger man levered himself onto an elbow so he could look at the individual next to him. Genesis was flushed, but that would quickly fade...as it always did. It was hard...incredibly hard not to admire his formn just because it was there...all lithe lines...pearlescent skin and the musky soft smell that was distinctly Genesis just before him. Catching him looking, the older man sighed and ran a hand through fiery locks...mussing them up a bit before settling with pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t understand” Sephiroth deadpanned after a moment.

Mako-blue eyes narrowed into accusing slits flitted to his visage before flickering away again.

“I thought I made myself pretty fucking clear, Seph” was the irritable response.

Complicated.

Everything about it was so complicated. Raising a hand, emboldened when the older man didn’t startle or jerk away, Sephiroth ran his palm flat up the hard slope of a muscled abdomen. The skin beneath his lifeline twitched slightly, but otherwise showed no indication or acknowledgement of his touch. It was there, however, in the way scarlet brows drew together in an expression that was one part irritation and another terrible inward conflict.

“I want to touch you” Sephiroth murmured, and ignored the blatant _’no shit’_ expression he received in response in favor of continuing. “Not simply for aesthetic reasons.”

“I imagine orgasm is a pretty nice motivator” was the muttered counterpoint.

Narrowing his eyes, the silver-haired first didn’t deign the comment a reply. Instead, he let the aforementioned hand slide downwards, bending his head as he did so. Genesis stiffened when the younger man placed his nose just above the jut of his hip...fingers tagging behind as he let his mouth settle over the declinative ‘V’ of his iliac furrow...inhaling as he did so.

“No” he muttered, half-distracted. “It’s because…” Sephiroth closed his eyes and struggled to find the words, even as Genesis leg bent slightly in order to shunt him away. Disallowing it for now, he let his free hand cup the underside of a creamy thigh in order to stop the movement. “Your body” the silver-haired first continued after a moment. “Is a body. I’m not ignoring the base separation between physical pleasure and mental connection. Letting his fingers relish the velvet feel of flesh against flesh for a moment, he nuzzled what he could reach. “But also...being with you physically is an expression of how I feel for you. I want to...make you feel good because you’re so…” He swallowed, frustrated with himself, and increasingly desperate. “I think about touching you, and the feeling is everywhere, it’s open...but it’s also so _strong_ a compulsion.”

“That’s biology” was the falsely cheerful, mostly impatient reply.

“It is” Sephiroth agreed. “But it’s also you…me. An expression of affection.” When Genesis scoffed he ignored the pain that whiplashed across his chest. “Society makes sex seem like such a shallow thing” he growled against soft epidermis. “But it’s not...not to me. I’m tactile, I’m always going to express myself more with my body than with what I say. It’s how I was raised.” Trying to keep his expression neutral, the General forced the frown that was turning the corners of his lips down with great effort. “I respect you” he added. “I respect your perspective in regards to intercourse, but I want you to know that when I do touch you, it’s not because I think you’re something to be bought or corralled or controlled. It’s because I can hardly…”

He broke off, because saying he could hardly _breathe_ for need to touch was just off the edge of the deep end, even if it was true in ways that he couldn’t put into words properly. Genesis was responding to him...which didn’t particularly surprise him. The erection nudging his cheek told him that much, even if he was ignoring it because he knew the older man would be offended if he pursued it. There were times when he cursed his biology, because heightened awareness came with heightened libido, heightened recognition of arousal. Everything about the redhead’s sex; the scent, the bodily reaction...the slightly elevated heartrate, was maddening. So when he’d pulled the oder man under him hours before; when he’d thrust deep into the inveigling depths of oblivion, curling over the body before him and driving hard until Genesis came with a shout that was half-pleasure and half terrible self deprecation and indignance, it was because he _needed_ it. It was selfish...utterly selfish, but there were times when he couldn’t hold back...when he had to chase it because it was something he wanted so desperately.

And it was a breathless thing.

Breathless because when Genesis arched under him, when his control was frayed enough that he reciprocated instinctually and bared his neck to him in a gesture that was purely pleasure, his heart felt _full_. It was honest, it was beautiful in ways that left him helpless. And if the redhead knew, _truly_ knew how much control he had over Sephiroth when he gave way, he was fairly sure it would terrify him. A hand in his hair startled him somewhat, and he stiffened on instinct...in preparation for rejection. But the fingers attached to said hand merely threaded through his hair and stroked contemplatively.

“Y’know” Genesis said dryly. “You’re the Great General Sephiroth, you do remember that right?” This was enough to make the ‘Great General Sephiroth’ raise his head and fix his bed partner with a squarely unimpressed look, which earned him another snort. The Commander let his head fall back with a sigh, hips undulating lazily before he apparently found a more comfortable position. “Who would have guessed you were such a sap” was the sleepy mutter. When the silver-haired First didn’t reply, he continued. “I’m your first, Seph. Don’t let me...don’t get so attached...don’t set yourself up for getting hurt.” A gentle tug at his hair. “You’re too fucking gorgeous to let some sorry asshole like me gobble you up and spit you out.”

Feeling somewhat exasperated, Sephiroth sat up, but only enough so that he could sling one leg and then the other over Genesis...so he could settle in the cradle of his hips and lean over him, elbows pillowed on either side of the older man’s head even as said individual cracked open an eye and looked crankily at him. His hair was an encumberment but he managed to throw it over one shoulder. There was a brief tussle as the redhead attempted to half-heartedly throw him off but gave up and settled with staring at the ceiling again. Even with the evidence of their previous encounter congealing between then, there was still that strong...connective current that indicated they could easily begin again...but he was unwilling and he knew it would only cause deeper resentment. Genesis drew one leg up, angled the attached hip until a knee was brushing Sephiroth’s side, and it was impossible to tell who breathed out suddenly...whose breath hitched abruptly despite the negatively charged atmosphere.

“Seph-” Genesis complained before breaking off and tugging his hair again. “Seriously not clean-”. A slightly flailing gestured. “-There’s _cum_ everywhere” he whined.

“It won’t kill you” Sephiroth muttered against scarlet locks as a firm but slightly condescending palm landed on the small of his back. “It’s protein.”

Seemingly against his will, the older man’s face spasmed before he threw back his head and laughed in a half-despairing, half-affectionate manner, teeth flashing in the dark of the room.

“Shut up” was the aborted reply, lost amidst poorly controlled chortles. Sobering, Genesis’ expression was abruptly terribly vulnerable before it settled itself into something softer and more lax. “If we’re going to fuck again I’m going to need the washroom beforehand.”

“We’re still talking” the General pointed out grumpily.

Again, that split-second bearing of openness before it was gone and a hand was cupping his cheek.

“Seph” Genesis said quietly. “I know. I _know_. But...you’re making this very complicated, which I suppose shouldn’t surprise me coming from you.” A thumb stroked his bottom lip contemplatively, and Sephiroth fought the urge to lick it. “I wanted bragging rights” was the brittle confession, and he stiffened before forcing himself to calm. Those sapphire eyes were contrite...regretful. “When we first did it...on the away mission. I didn’t think we’d do it again...but we kept doing it, and I ended up never telling anyone.” The thumb fell away. “I want this” was the tired admission. “I do, but you’re very...intense...in more ways than one. And I’m not used to being touched with...veneration. It’s fucking weird. Not a bad weird, just...different, and I’m still happy with just giving...but I understand. You need to give me time, and not-” the redhead appeared to struggle. “-I don’t know man, like I feel like you’re a walking sex hurricane and you need to calm down.”

Against his will, Sephiroth felt his lip twitch.

‘“Sex hurricane’?” he echoed amusedly.

“Yes” was the very Genesis-esque response. “I get the feeling if you ended up bottoming I wouldn’t be able to sleep for a week. You like closeness, closeness makes me feel owned and you’re very...enthusiastic about intimacy.”

“Hmm” Sephiroth muttered, lowering his head and mouthing at the soft swell of a nipple. A hand smacked the back of his head and he allowed himself to look contrite.

“Gosh, you’re dense” was the cantankerous groan. “Give it time, alright? That’s all I’m saying. Chill the fuck out, and try and understand that this is new for me too.”

Sliding his now _very_ interested erection along the still-wet, still welcoming cleft of the redhead’s perineum, Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

“Is this the part where I say _’sir, yes sir?’_ ” he smirked.

“You’re like a dog” Genesis groaned. “And no, this is the part where you let me up so I don’t ruin your sheets permanently.” Another arching scarlet brow. “We have a debriefing in the morning, and then Angeal wants to spar, so you better not be doing anything so fucking fancy I won’t be able to sit or go through moves.”

“Am I permitted to touch you?” Sephiroth demanded even as he moved back to give the older man room to get up.

Blue eyes surveyed him for a moment.

“Maybe we should start over” Genesis muttered, before sliding into a sitting position. With Sephiroth half-kneeling between his legs, he reached forward and bumped their foreheads together. “You’re allowed to give me time” he murmured against his mouth. “And I’ll tell you what works and what doesn’t.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”


End file.
